𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒?

Part XVII

Part 17:   Old Memories

Come as you are, as you were,
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy,
Take your time, hurry up
The choice is yours, don't be late.

Take a rest, as a friend, as an old memory
Memory

"Come As You Are", Nirvana

The first things Draco noticed as he opened his eyes the next morning were Harry's absence and a strange smell.  Cautiously he got up, trying to minimize his dizziness. He was wearing only a pair of boxers but he didn't feel cold. Actually, he was enveloped by a strange warm and tingling sensation.

It took him several minutes and a look to his wounds to realize that it was an effect of Hermione spell. His cuts were all closed and his bruises had lost their violent purple shade in less than twenty-four hours.  Draco realized that he would be completely fine in the next few days.  He was still lost in his thoughts when he suddenly realized what was that smell.

Something is burning, he thought frowning, slowly reaching the kitchen.  There he found Harry, so absorbed in preparing breakfast that he didn't realize that Draco had been staring at him for some time.

Harry had woken up early that morning and for the first time he hadn't felt the urge to run away from his bed and from the man who was sharing it with him. He lay awake for more than an hour, finally considering his feeling with calmness while observing Draco's sleep with guilt and worry.

He couldn't understand why Draco had been so kind towards him. He had acted as nothing had happened. As if Harry hadn't hurt him so much.

Harry didn't believe that Draco had already forgiven him. Actually, he was quite sure that there was no possibility of forgiveness for his behaviour. He knew that no matter how much time would pass, he would never be able to forgiven himself for what he had done. Then, how could Draco be so accepting?

Slowly Harry moved, not tearing his confused gaze from the pale sleeping form. His fingers reached for Draco's hair and touched it lightly, in a sort of frightened action that took with it a hidden sacredness.

Harry didn't know what would have been worst at this point. He almost would have preferred if the fair-haired man were angry with him. He had expected Draco to yell venomous words, to hit him, and to put him through the same pain he had gratuitously given to him.

Harry knew that would have happily suffered the pains of hell if Draco had wanted. And he was aware that in the end he could have been able to even ask for more, begging on his knees for the Slytherin to take his revenge.

But that peaceful silence and that forgiving embrace that he received instead... They were simply heartbreaking.

It was far worse than any punishment Harry could imagine. Well, maybe that was the way Draco intended to pay him back, and Harry couldn't do anything if not accepting it gratefully, silently bearing his pain fully, letting the shame enveloping him, drowning in his guilt, as he looked at that flawless skin wounded and bruised.

I don't deserve him. I don't deserve his arms around me. I don't deserve his soothing voice talking to me. Nor his clear eyes looking at me. Hell, I don't even deserve to cry for him, to feel guilty and sorry.